


Someone Else

by Imogenbb



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gore, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogenbb/pseuds/Imogenbb
Summary: Dee has been alone since it all started, will she be able to open herself up to others who want to help her, or convince herself that the world is against her.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much a work in progress, i'm not really sure where it's going yet but i hope it's okay! :D

It was raining that day, the smell of grass and damp soil permeating through the air. She didn't mind the rain though, she enjoyed it more than when the sun would beat down onto her skin, feeling like a hot punch to the face. Thankfully it was only a block down to the bus stop; another day another bout of classes, at least it's my last year, she thought to herself. High school was officially ending in a couple months, she wasn't on the honour roll or anything but she was getting out with the reputation of being above average at least. She squinted her eyes enough that she could make out the silhouette of her friend waiting for her.  
It was quiet, barely any cars around, which she thought was strange; must be something on today.

"Hey! Marsha! What's goin' on girlfriend?" She called out with a giggle.  
Marsha's head perked up, her dreads swinging, as she heard her friend call. Slowly she shuffled around to face her friend, the girl couldn't help but notice how Marsha's legs looked like they were about to cave in on themselves.

"Marsh? You okay?" She got out just before Marsha had turned around fully. Her eyes were hazy, full of smoke, her ebony skin pallid and ashy.   
That isn't what concerned the girl most though; Marsha's lower jaw was missing, and that's the kind of thing you don't just accidentally leave at home. 

Her tongue was left to flap in the wind, blood dropping from it, thick and sticky like tree resin. Tendrils of her skin encased the gaping hole of her mouth. There was no hesitation, no questions, the girl ran. She ran home without another thought other than, fuck Marsha, she was kind of a bitch anyways.  
The front door to her house was open when she finally got back, the only barricade being the fly screen door. When she stumbled in she slammed the front door shut and bolted it closed, she sunk to her knees in front of it, encasing her wind flushed face in her sweaty palms. She could faintly hear the television broadcasting the news. Slowly, she picked herself up and dragged her feet into the living room. Her father was sitting in his beaten up recliner with his head in his hands.

"Daddy.." She croaked; he looked up at her then, his eyes widening when he sees her distraught face.

"Dad we have to get out of here, we can't stay." She said, faking confidence. The news broadcaster was explaining that an unknown virus was spreading rapidly, turning those infected cannibalistic and unable to respond to reason. 

Stay in your homes, the woman urged. The girl barked out a harsh laugh at that. Her father stood suddenly then,  
"Round up the twins, pack necessities and leave everything else." He ordered frankly, he turned and stalked toward the bedroom he shared with her mother, she still slept blissfully unaware. Her father was a good man, a mechanic by trade and almost constantly covered in oil and grease. He had met her mother in high school, he was a greaser and she was a geek, her face framed by big horn rimmed glasses as well as fuzzy red curls.  
They were polar opposites, she guessed what they said was true, opposites do attract. She was their eldest child, a girl of eighteen with strawberry blonde dead straight hair and her father's signature deep brown eyes. Deandra Sullivan, named after her aunt that died a few years before her birth; she preferred her nickname, Dee. At thirteen she became the big sister to paternal twins, Theodore and Lana; or Teddy and Lana banana as everyone affectionately called them. They had their mothers baby blues but the same strawberry blonde hair that Dee had. 

She couldn't imagine trying to explain to them what was going on, didn't know if she could form the words.


	2. Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She remembers..

It's raining when Dee wakes up and she's grateful for it, hopefully the vegetables she's planted are growing okay because of it. She stretches out her aching muscles, she hasn't slept well for the four years since it happened, she still thinks about Marsha sometimes. There are no walkers outside at the moment, the rain muddles smells and sounds about, confusing them. Another reason to love the rain.

She often can't believe how long it's been since it all started, the troubles of high school so far behind her now. Now all she cared about was food and protection, like a caveman. She had a pistol that she'd scavenged from one of the many soldier outposts scattered all over her little home town. She'd found some awesome daggers at some armaments enthusiasts house; now that was a good find. Guns had always made Dee nervous, even when they became necessary, they were too loud and hard to conceal, she liked the feel of a blade in her hand and the swiftness of it. She keeps the blades sheathed on her waist, covered loosely by the flannel shirt she wears as a jacket.   
Nobody passed by her street, no cars and barely any walkers, she felt safe in her old town but supplies were always dwindling and the reality that she would soon have to venture out was dawning on her rapidly. She would find herself waking with a start, sweat stuck to every inch of her skin after having visions of herself being mauled by walkers. There had been people that had passed before, they were scavenging when she saw them. 

There were three of them, two men and a woman. The woman was tall and slim, too slim with long thick dark hair and a hooked nose. One of the men looked like they could be her brother, with the same dark hair and angled nose. The other man had light brown hair and a constant smirk that made her heart flutter a little.  
Enchanted by his smile she had invited the three in; she was naive.   
The girl had knocked her out and tied her up on one of the chairs that sat in her dining room, but she had tied her with her chest facing the back of the chair which Dee had found peculiar when she woke up, among other things of course. 

"I like your knives." Stated the smiler, while twirling one of her daggers around in his fingers. 

"We've been watching you for a while, did you know that?" He asked this rhetorically, she couldn't have, "you've got all this awesome shit and, well to be frank, we want it." He had come close to nicking himself with the blade so many times it was causing even more tension to build in her stomach.

"I thought I'd have some fun with you first though, put this pretty little thing," he holds up the dagger, "to the test." He smiles full and wide, teeth glistening in candle light. 

Dee stays quiet, she knows she'll get hurt and she's scared but she'll survive, she has to. She hears the man pull a chair up behind her, she can feel his warm breath on her bare back, the only thing covering her now is her bra.

"I've always wanted to draw, or paint but I could just never find the right canvas," she feels the cold tip of the blade at the top of shoulder, "now I think I have." He drags the knife down from where it was on her shoulder until he hits one of the protrusions of her vertebrae.   
She bites down hard on her lip to stifle a scream, she can feel blood dripping slowly down her back accompanied by the falling material of her now destroyed bra. He starts up where he left off, continuing the line from the knob of her spine down to her hip. He starts at the opposite should and does the same thing making an X mark on her back.

"X marks the spot." He says with a chuckle that makes bile rise in her throat and tears sting her eyes. By the time he's decided he's made enough mess she has a plethora of X marks all over her back in different sizes and placements. 

"Sounds like they're finished packing up the car, it's been fun sweetness." He states placing a violent kiss to her wet cheek. 

He had been so enraptured with shredding her back to ribbons that he didn't realise that she had her other dagger in her boot, he had thought she was writhing an huffing in pain but really she had been straining to slice herself free of the ropes that bound her. Once he shut the door behind him she shucked the ropes of with a wince, her back stung and she knew she would have hefty scars to remember these pricks by. She didn't bother putting a shirt on, she would make less noise without one. She climbed out of the window next to the front door, careful to take it slowly so she made little noise.

About a meter and a half away the long haired girl was leaning against the post of Dee's porch. The boys were across the road finishing with all the supplies they had stolen. With her blade in hand, Dee snuck up and shoved her knife into the soft spot of the girls temple letting her down slowly so as to not make any noise.  
Looking in the girls back pocket, she had taken Dee's pistol and loaded it, ready to go on the road. She snatched it and started towards the two men, she shot the darker haired once square in the face, killing him instantly. She shot the other one in the knee, only crippling him; he screamed shrilly and Dee could already hear the moans and groans of the dead. 

"HELP ME! PLEASE!" He begged, she shook her head and started towards her house, the walkers not even noticing her over the man's screams. Bon appétit, she thought to herself as she bolted her doors and windows shut.


End file.
